A Simple Decision
by naki1
Summary: Draco has to make a decision that will change his life and affect everything that he is and everyone around him. You’re never too young to decide your future. Start planning now. H/D pairing may arise. A bit of psychological develing into Draco.
1. Chapter 1

A Simple Decision  
  
Title: A Simple Decision  
  
Author name and email: naki_chan@yahoo.com  
  
Summary: Draco has to make a decision that will change his life and affect everything that he is and everyone around him. You're never too young to decide your future. Start planning now. H/D pairing may arise.  
  
Rating: First parts are PG-14 and may well remain that way or go to an R.  
  
Disclaimer: I have no commercial aspirations for this story. The characters are not mine. The situation is obviously fictional and no animals were harmed in its creation.  
  
Warning: This story will deal with issues such as suicide, sexuality, and good versus evil. It is to be read with an open mind and no flames only constructive criticism is to be sent to the above mentioned e-mail address.  
  
~  
  
Harry sighed, staring down at his food. It was the first day back to classes after their spring break. This meant that the obscene amount of homework that the teachers liked to assign them was due. He had been up all night trying to get the last of his Divination papers done. He remembered vaguely that it had something to do with the history of position location involving a pendant and a map. Ron had been absolutely no help either. He kept insisting that they could probably just copy the passage on it straight from the text and the old bat would never even notice. Hermione had ended that train of thought by stating that if either of them plagiarized their work they could be expelled from Hogwarts and even if they were not she would never associate with cheaters.  
  
As he reached for another slice of toast, the room was suddenly filled with fluttering wings as hundreds of messenger owls descended upon the students at their breakfast tables. A copy of the Daily Prophet landed in front of Hermione. She reached over and untied the string that kept it rolled and started reading. Ron received a letter from his mother. He opened it in between bites of his danish.  
  
Harry let his eyes wander the room, silently wondering what everyone else had gotten. Harry sometimes felt lonely when everyone got owl posts, but him. It wasn't like he wanted the Dursely's to send him things. Who really would want old-mismatched socks…except for a certain house elf that is. He shrugged himself out of this latest bout of self-pity, but his eyes still looked at the different house tables.  
  
At the far end of the room he watched the Slytherin table. Harry noted that even Draco Malfoy had received something. This was not a surprise as his parents were constantly worrying about him, and fussing over him, and sending him anything he asked for. Harry caught himself. He wasn't jealous of Draco. He would never want parents like that. He just sometimes wished he had parents who were alive to be proud of his successes, and to worry over him. He did have friends though. Harry turned back to his two housemates and smiled at them. They were both too absorbed into perusing their mail to notice.  
  
"Maybe I am lucky in the fact that I get to choose who I call my family. Malfoy is stuck with his parents. Then again I guess I am sort of stuck with the Durselys too, but do I really consider them family?" Harry mused.  
  
His attention returned to Draco just in time to see the blond boy pale even more than his natural colour. Draco briskly rose from his seat and strode out of the dinning hall. Harry followed Draco with his eyes as the other boy made his leave.  
  
"Now what got into him? Must have been some letter to phase Malfoy." Harry decided that if his enemy was acting uncharacteristically it was probably best if he kept a watch over him. Maybe Hermione would even help.  
  
'Harry,' Ron's voice called him back. 'Where have you been? I was calling your name for the last minute and you didn't even acknowledge me.'  
  
'Ron, you were not trying to get Harry's attention for a whole minute. I'd say it was more like twenty seconds. Still Harry, what were you looking at?' Hermione piped in.  
  
Harry smiled sheepishly at having been caught letting his mind wander. He wasn't going to admit to feeling lonely, not with his two best friends there right beside him. They would try to stop getting their owl-posts, so he wouldn't feel bad. There was no need for that really. It wasn't as if he was sad, just a little lonely sometimes.  
  
'Oh. Malfoy got a letter just now and from the look on his face I don't think it was good news.' Harry muttered.  
  
'Serves him right!' Ron replied as he gestured towards the Slytherin table. 'He loves seeing our misfortunes. I wished you had nudged me, or something, so I could have seen the look on his face. I wish he had gotten a howler and it went off right here in front of everyone. Was he upset? Did he appear ruffled? Did his sneer falter on his face? Harry! How could you have let me miss that?!'  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron. 'I know that Malfoy is not your favourite person in the world, but really! You shouldn't go around wishing misfortunes on people. It just isn't healthy.'  
  
~  
  
Draco scolded himself mentally, retaking control over his emotions and returning his face and movements to that of haughty boredom. His heart though, was still pounding in his chest and he could hear the blood rush in his ears. He unclenched his fist from the now crumpled letter he was holding and nonchalantly tucked it into his pocket. Walking back to the Slytherin common room in the dungeon, Draco tried to keep his mind neutral.  
  
"Don't think about the letter. Not yet. Not until you are enclosed behind your bed curtains where no one can see you react to it."  
  
After what seemed like a small eternity, Draco found himself is the quite of the boys' dormitory. He was glad that no one seemed to be playing hooky today, but still checked the room to make sure that there was truly no one there to intrude upon him.  
  
Such secrecy was necessary in Slytherin, as there was no better way to respect, here in the dungeon, than blackmail. Unless you were a Malfoy; then you came with a name to fear. Although Draco still liked to have one over his housemates. You never knew when a little secret might come in handy.  
  
He pulled his curtains closed and allowed his face to unmask now that his only company was the magicked light. His hands shook slightly as he removed the letter from his pocket. Gently he smoothed it out on the bed in front of him still hoping that he could deny its existence. Clearing his thoughts, Draco forced himself into a rational state of mind and hoped that he could maintain it while he read.  
  
'My dear little Dragon,  
  
Your Father does not know of this letter and let us keep it that way. I would not normally write you, but I think that you may need to hear this.  
  
Lucius is trying to have the preparations for your initiation ceremony ready for your sixteenth birthday. I know we had planned for them to be after your graduation from Hogwarts, but Your Father is afraid that you will miss out on the true beginnings of the second battle if you are not brought into the fold quickly.  
  
I tried to convince him, for your sake, that eighteen was a much better age for you to join. It was a pivotal point in your life and you should be a proper master when you received the honour.  
  
At sixteen you will still be his ward. Be not reckless. I will not speak to you of this matter again. You are old enough to make your own choices. I will not stand by you. Decide well and do not drag me into your fate. I have my own.  
  
Your Mother.'  
  
Draco read the letter again, slowly thinking over how that day would change his life forever. He had always been raised knowing that his purpose in life, as far as his Father was concerned, was to be the best Death Eater he could be. And now that moment was almost here and Draco found himself wishing he could be destined to be anything but. Even life as a Muggle might have been better.  
  
Now that he had acknowledged his gut reaction, Draco felt slightly calmer. He ran his hands through his soft blond hair and set about to figure out the best strategy to keep him alive without having to join the ranks of the Death Eaters and if possible maybe even stay in his Father's good books.  
  
He decided that the simplest plan might well prove to be the best in this case. If he wasn't home he couldn't be branded with the dark mark. With that in mind, Draco left his bed, with the letter carefully tucked into his pocket, and headed to Snape's quarters in hopes that the head of his house would help him get an audience with the Head Master.  
  
Outside of Snape's room, Draco paused, his conviction wavering. Slowly he raised his hand, gritted his teeth, and committed himself to his course of action.  
  
'What?' Snape bellowed from his quarters. He very much disliked being disturbed when he was preparing for a class. Being well prepared was the only way to be when teaching a class, especially since his next class was a double with Slytherin and Gryffindor.  
  
Snape opened his door briskly and found himself facing his favourite student, Draco Malfoy. It was easy to see why Severus Snape would take such a liking to Draco Malfoy. The boy was a quick learner, who had a morbid fascination with the dark arts and a love of potions. In those ways he reminded Snape a lot of himself.  
  
Snape quickly adjusted his menacing frown into a more welcoming sneer that bordered on being a smile.  
  
'And what can I do for you Mr. Malfoy?' Snape queried.  
  
'Sorry for bothering you Professor, but I was hoping that you could arrange for me a meeting with the Head Master.'  
  
'Interesting. And why aren't you in class Mr. Malfoy? Dumbledore is a busy man and his time should not be taken up by trivial matters. If it is about young Mr. Potter, then I assure you that he will have more than enough Potions' homework tonight to keep him out of trouble.' Snape waited, curiously, for Draco's reply.  
  
'I assure you Professor that this has nothing to do with Potter. The nature of the discussion is both private and urgent. I would very much appreciate it if you could just tell me where his office is, so I can obtain my appointment on my own.' Draco said, raising his chin ever so slightly as if asking Snape to deny him.  
  
Snape, for his part, had raised one eyebrow and was considering what was so private and urgent in Darco's life that had made him skip class and come to Snape asking for help. He decided that if it was that important to Draco then Albus would probably want to talk to him about it.  
  
'Alright Mr. Malfoy, if you think it is that important, I will go now with you to Dumbledore's office and see if he is available to talk with you.' Snape stepped forward, bringing his door closed behind him, and forcing Draco to step back. He strode over to the stairs and muttered, 'Now not only will I not be fully prepared for class, but I shall be late as well.'  
  
Draco followed Snape up the stairs and down a hall into what seemed to be a dead end, although Draco knew better then to assume that there was actually a dead end in Hogwarts. Snape walked up to an old suit of armour and said, 'Ticklish Licorice.'  
  
Immediately the statue moved out of the way, revealing a hidden staircase. Draco waited to follow Snape up the stairs, but when the Professor didn't move, Draco looked at him questioningly.  
  
'If the statue moved then Professor Dumbledore is ready to greet visitors.' With that said, Snape turned on his heels and walked back the way they had just come.  
  
Draco strode up the stairs, not a single drop of anxiety was apparent in his movement. When making demands one must always appear confident and in control.  
  
He knocked on the wooden door at the top of the stairs and did not wait long before the door opened on its own. Finding himself in Dumbledore's private office, Draco allowed himself a moment to look around, musing at what the eccentric Headmaster had decided to place in his room. The room was filled with shelves of books, and most of the books on those shelves were not put away carefully. It looked as if they had battled to see who had the right to even remain on the self. The losers were scattered about the floor. Across from the door was a large desk, cluttered with paper, and behind it was yet another door. Draco figured that it must lead to where Professor Dumbledore slept. Off to the right of the desk, was an ornate golden perch with a phoenix preening itself on it. The phoenix seemed disinterested in Draco, so he decided to treat it in kind. On the left side of the desk was a cabinet with an intricate locking glass front. Inside of it colours flowed and Draco could almost feel the hum of magical energy. He stared at the fluid colours for a few more seconds before chiding himself and returning to his evaluation of the room. He noted the chairs appeared comfortable. Unless he intended to throw his adversaries off guard by making them feel at home, he would not have comfy chairs in his office. Draco sighed. There was very little one would call imposing about this office. It wasn't shabby, or dirty, but it didn't quite strike one as the office of someone as powerful as Dumbledore, who not only controlled Hogwarts, but also had much clout in the Ministry of Magic.  
  
'Do sit down, my boy, and make yourself at home.' A voice pronounced from behind Draco.  
  
Draco started slightly at the intrusion into his reveries, and shamefully even let out the very faintest of a startled squawk. He recovered quickly and advanced forward to a chair. Pausing slightly, he turned towards Dumbledore. 'I believe I shall Professor.' He stated and without further ado, sat himself down in a fluid movement and gestured for Dumbledore to do the same.  
  
Dumbledore had a small smile on his face and Draco took this as encouraging. He figured that if this were a bad time then Dumbledore wouldn't appear so pleasant, especially not to a student. Even if that student was a Malfoy.  
  
Settling himself down in his chair, Dumbledore proceeded to offer Draco Malfoy tea and tarts, both of which were refused, politely, by the visitor.  
  
'I take it you would like to get strait to the point of this visit then, Mr. Malfoy?' he queried.  
  
'Yes I would, Professor.' Draco nodded slightly. 'I have a favour to ask of you.'  
  
Dumbledore leaned perceptively forward in his chair as a sign of his attentiveness to Draco's case.  
  
Draco continued, 'I wish to stay here for next year's Christmas break.'  
  
'Mr Malfoy, I would think that after having been here for five years you would have noticed that students are allowed to stay here at Christmas. They have always been given that choice.'  
  
Draco's only reply was a leveling gaze at the old wizard before him. He silently hoped that Dumbledore was quicker than he looked so that he would not have to spell his request out for the wizard.  
  
Dumbledore continued to speak when he realized that Draco was content to stare at him with a gaze that could freeze his beard.  
  
'But if a student wanted to remain here, but also did not want to make his parents feel neglected by his choice, then arrangements could be made. On one condition of course.'  
  
'Yes.' Replied Draco curtly.  
  
'If I am to consider what you ask then I would also have you consider doing a favour for me.' Dumbledore smiled, trying to reassure the suspicious student before him that it would be nothing too horrible, at least in Dumbledore's opinion.  
  
Coldly Draco countered, 'This favour would be?'  
  
Dumbledore sighed and looked at the blond boy before him. Never had he encountered a student so cold to him. He was used to students either fearing him or befriending him. Never had one sat here so stubborn and proud, demanding a favour with no explanation as to why he needed it. He could guess, but sometimes you needed to hear the reasons strait from the source and there was of course the fact that Dumbledore was curious. Of his students, there were very few that caught his attention enough for him to worry about them individually. He hated that fact and blamed his constant responsibilities at the Ministry of Magic. During calmer years he had reveled in the fact that very little went on under this roof without him knowing about it. Out of necessity and almost fatherly-love, Dumbledore had kept a close watch on Harry, but Draco worried him too. He did not quite know what to expect from this boy and that unnerved Albus.  
  
'Find someone you can confide in. It has occurred to me that you may need a friend, Mr Malfoy. Professor Snape would be a place to start, if you ever need someone to talk to. You could also come to me. But if you need a friend, may I suggest Mr Potter. He has been through much himself and may prove to be a good listener.'  
  
'And if I feel that I do not need a friend?'  
  
'I think you should consider my words and I will consider yours.'  
  
'Is that an ultimatum? Are you telling me, Professor, to get a friend or go home?'  
  
'I merely suggest that you may want one especially if you mean to remain at Hogwarts to see the Great Hall decked out for the Yule Tide season next year. Unless you already have a confidant and wish to tell me the exact reason behind your request to stay here next year without your parents believing that the stay was by your choice.'  
  
'You insult me with the suggestion that I would lie to my parents.' Draco stated evenly as he rose from his chair.  
  
'But not with the suggestion that you are lonely and have no one to talk to?' Parried Dumbledore.  
  
'I am a Malfoy, sir. And with that comes certain expectations and responsibilities. Friendship has never been a prominent goal in my life.' Draco stated as he marched towards the door. As he reached the doorknob, he paused and turned back to Dumbledore, who had also risen from his seat during the confrontation. 'I will consider.' He said softly before disappearing through the door.  
  
Dumbledore was mildly upset with how he had handled that situation. He had acted almost out of character, provoking Draco like that. He hoped that he had not over-stepped his bounds or he would loose any chance of connecting with the boy.  
  
"Oh you could be capable of so much, young Malfoy. Choose carefully. I would hate to see one such as you wasted in the coming war." Dumbledore thought as he listened to the fading footsteps in the stairwell.  
  
~  
  
Draco decided to go straight to Potions, although he had none of his books with him. He would think over his conversation with Dumbledore later and he didn't want Snape to wonder over him too much. He was sure that if he skipped class that Snape would pester him to find out what was going on.  
  
Boldly entering the class, Draco sauntered regally to his seat and sat himself down with an air that announced he had every right to be late and no one should question him on it. Snape raised an eyebrow at the late arrival, but continued with his lecture.  
  
At the end of the class he told them to review the notes they had taken very closely and read the chapter about confusion potions, as for the next four classes the entire class would work in groups of two making the potion he would assign.  
  
'It will be a different potion for each of the groups. I hope that will ensure that the cheating, which is normally rampant in my class, will be ceased so that I may judge each of your skills.' Snape focused in on the Gryffindors as he made that statement. 'I already paired up most of you at the beginning of the class, but since Mr Potter was, as usual, the odd man out, he can pair up with Draco. You should be grateful, Mr Potter. With Mr Malfoy as your partner you may be able to pass this part of my class.' Snape sneered at the dark-haired boy sitting off to the side of the class with the rest of the Gryffindor house. Before dismissing the class, Snape asked that Malfoy remain behind to speak to him briefly. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dumbledore smiled as Snape relayed the strange conversation he had with Draco Malfoy.  
  
'By that smile on your face, Albus, I know you are keeping me in the dark on some developments in the young Malfoy's life.  
  
'He just needs a friend, Severus. And maybe a bit of guidance. I have great hopes that he may soon search for a new father figure. Be there for him.' Dumbledore gazed at Snape with his twinkling eyes that were distant but always aware.  
  
~  
  
"I'm serious about betraying my father." Draco thought to himself. He had wandered through the rest of his day in a daze. His mind was in turmoil. He was supposed to love, respect, and obey his father. Wasn't he a Malfoy? Shouldn't he want to join the Dark Lord?  
  
Finally night fell on the castle and Draco, finding the dorm to be too cheery for his mood, snuck away to a quiet room that was rarely used, but perfect for Draco's disposition. The room was one of Hogwart's music rooms with a well-used piano pushed up against the far wall. It was completely insolated since many of the students that used it really needed the practice. Draco was not one of these students. His father had always felt that his protégé should be well accomplished and on top of his dark arts' lessons Draco had also learned music, ballroom dancing, fencing, and proper society behaviours.  
  
After locking the door, Draco slipped out of his shoes and arranged them before padding over to the piano. He liked it best when he could play without his shoes on. In fact, Draco hated shoes. He had always been a very tactile child and found his shoes oppressing. He sent a dirty look their way as he realized that he had not been able to walk about without them for over a month. He wished he could have wandered about the Slytherin common room barefoot so he could feel the cold stone and plush carpet under his toes.  
  
Draco collected his thoughts when he realized how far he had let them wander.  
  
"Wool-gathering again are you stupid?"  
  
With his back straight and his hands perfectly poised above the ivory and ebony keys, Draco launched himself into the music and his mental journey.  
  
Something was always wrong when it came to his parents. Draco knew that they didn't treat him like other parents treated their kids, but had always chalked it up to it being a Malfoy thing. He didn't cry any more. Crying was something that he had outgrown by the age of four. He didn't scream any more. Screaming was something he had out grown by the age of six. He didn't try to beg anymore. Begging was something he had out grown by the age of ten. Now he rarely ever flinched, his mask was perfect. He had learned well. He still thought though. He often wondered. Many why questions that other kids incessantly prattle off had run through Draco's mind, but always remained silent, not even daring now to show in his eyes. He often thought he knew why. He was imperfect and always needed to be reminded of what he should be. Then other times when his father would show him off or praise him Draco wouldn't know what to think. At first he tried harder to please, but now the insults and pain came indiscriminately and Draco would usually just submit.  
  
"Why bother when nothing I do is right?"  
  
Draco lowered his head and rested against the piano. No one was there to scold him and even if some one was there Draco didn't care. He just wanted to lie down and let the world take out its worst on him so it could just be over. Even if he jumped, it would never be high enough. Hell he could fly to the moon and his father would still be upset because he hadn't followed orders.  
  
If he felt this way then why did he go to Dumbledore?  
  
Draco let the music flow over him for awhile. He didn't always have all the answers; he never did. He was just tired.  
  
"Just make it all go away. Some one just solve this for me. I can't. Nothing in me works right."  
  
Draco woke from his sore position hunched over the piano. He rubbed the giant red mark he had from where his cheek had been pressed into the wood, wiped the sleep from his eyes and the smallest line of dried drool from the side of his mouth. He glanced at his watch, bemusedly wondering how long he had let himself pass out, and found that breakfast had already been served. In fact if he wanted to eat he had better get to the dinning hall now.  
  
Draco burst into the dinning hall just in time to snatch a few pieces of toast and bacon from the nearest table before they were magically cleared. The girl, from whose plate Draco had stolen his food, stared at him with a mixture of shock and anger. Belatedly he realized that he had taken his food not only from the Gryffindor table, but also from the plate of the Granger girl. Draco covered as best he could. No loosing face over this. While staring back at her, he slowly raised a strip of bacon to his mouth, closed his incisors trapping the bacon, with a flick of his wrist savagely tore it apart, and then did an about-face to make his exit. Every eye in the room followed Draco as he left, especially a pair of green ones, which were trying to make sense of what had just happened.  
  
Harry had watch as Draco had practically run into the Dinning Hall. When he had come over to their table, Harry thought that Draco wanted to insult them and was getting prepared for a verbal duel. Then Draco had completely ignored them, instead stealing Hermione's leftovers. Ron, who was beside Harry, had started to rise, but stopped when Draco had done the dramatic bit with his bacon; unsure of how to act in this situation Ron sat back down. Harry noticed that Draco was not wearing his school uniform and that he had a big red mark on the side of his face.  
  
'Hermy, what was that about? Did you see the side of his face?'  
  
Hermione shrugged back. 'Haven't a clue. If I'd've known he was going to take my food I would have spit on it. He probably just slept in and felt like making a little scene about it. Hope he gets mudblood cooties!'  
  
Draco was in a foul mood to say the least. He was sore and embarrassed. He had also decided that he was going to be horrifically late for Transfiguration. The world had just tried to make a fool out of him and lower the Malfoy name before the entire school. Draco had to try to make up for that. He was going to take a long shower and make himself as perfect in image as he could before facing the school again.  
  
"It was my fault I was late for breakfast, not the world's. I fell asleep in the piano room. I was the one who didn't notice that I was stealing food from the Gryffindor table. It was all me being stupid as usual."  
  
Draco thought all of this, trying to convince some small part of himself that he still had control, but the rational part of him knew that he had never really had control. It was all an illusion. He had tried so hard to believe that he was the keeper of his own destiny, but what was destiny if not a pre-made place for him in the scheme of things.  
  
His musings returned once more to yesterday's events with a sour and bitter question of why he was bothering. If life wanted a Death Eater of this Malfoy then why try to fight the inevitable?  
  
___________________________________________________  
  
How was it? C&Cs always welcomed. Should I delve deeper into Draco's subconscious? 


	3. Chapter 3

___________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
The cottage was fairly secluded. That was one of the main reasons for using it after all. Well that and the fact that no one would suspect Death Eaters meeting in such a well-kept, homey cottage. The actual large gatherings usually took place in the feeble woods behind the cabin. Those gatherings were rare. Most of the planning happened in the cottage and involved the efforts of only a few select individuals.  
  
Voldemort smiled to himself. He had been relishing the simple pleasures that having a real body could bring. He was able to choose his wardrobe every morning and eat meals of real food and not magical snake milk or unicorn blood. He was able to fall asleep at night without fear that the frail link he had erected between himself and the world of te living would fade away and leave him lost in the void. He still had his fears though. He was powerful, of that there was no doubt, but his magic had been tainted by all of the potions he had used trying to maintain his station and life. Slowly those taints were invading him. He could feel them as they had crept into his mind when it had not been properly encased in flesh. He could hear, see, and feel things that his own senses did not register. With power there comes a great price and a weaker wizard would have folded beneath this onslaught, but not Tom. Voldemort was not only ambitious, but smart as well; a fact that most of his adversaries over looked. One did not take on the wizarding world and almost conquer it by chance alone. Many hours of careful scheming were done long before Tom felt ready to face the world with his new name. And many more were being had before Voldemort would feel ready to face the world again with his new body. Plans were being set into motion and others were bearing fruit. New alliances were being made and old ones were being tested. Soon he would descend upon them, into their minds, finding their hidden fears, and, stripping away their last defenses, he would infect them once again. The heir of Slytherin was not someone who was easily disposed of.  
  
______________________________________________________________  
  
Short chapter I know. I will write more if someone wants to write my final term paper for Romantic French Lit?? Didn't think so.  
  
Loving hear from those reading my stories. Keep up the C&Cs. I do read them and will listen to all advice given. If you see spelling errors by all means e-mail me for a quick dictionary thwap over the head.  
  
More HP fanfic goodness on the way! 


	4. Chapter 4

Draco spent much of the next week in the same fashion. He was falling apart. He did not look it as he made sure that all appearances were kept up, but he could feel the stress and confusion getting to him. His father had written him asking for the monthly update of the going-ons of Hogwarts, Harry, and his teachers. That was two days ago and Draco hadn't yet written back. He would read the letter, sit at his desk with the quill poised over the parchment, start writing a few lines, and then realize that his father would be able to see right through all of his empty words. There was nothing for him to write. His father would know; he always knew.  
  
Draco shook. He had nightmares. Ones were he had finally lost all control and saw the strings that held him up like a horrific farce of a puppet. He would desperately want to be freed and then the puppet master would laugh evilly at him and grant his wish. The strings would be cut and little marionette Draco would fall. He would fall and he would break; he was only made of wood after all.  
  
Many nights had been spent up in one of the towers in an empty room drinking smuggled Butterbeer. There were nights that Draco couldn't remember how he had gotten back to bed and mornings clutching the loo. He was ditching classes to do nothing better then sit outside them. He just could not work up the energy to sit there at his desk. He had gotten a stern lecture from McGonagall when she found him sitting across the hall from her class when he should have been in it. The berating had ended on a peculiar note when she had given him an odd look and did not demand that he take his place in class. In fact she had made little protest when Draco had stood up and walked away before she actually told him he could.  
  
Control. Draco longed to feel like he was in control. He had to be in control of anything in his life no matter how small. The broken doll was learning to walk by itself in painfully tiny steps. He was on his own. He had woken up from the spell to find he had no loving parents or friends to support him. How had the elite, pure born, magical boy ended up so alone?  
  
That's how it started really, a grasp at control over himself and his surroundings. He began with his appearance. He made sure that his choice of wardrobe was perfection and his hair and skin immaculate. He spent hours, all told, in front of the mirror with various moisturizers and gels. His mother had always told him how far too many witches relied on magic to improve their looks, but then as their magic faded, or they became too ugly for their magic to maintain the illusion, all of their looks were lost. In one of his rare lessons from his mother, Narcissa had shown him how to take care of his skin and looks naturally. This would preserve them for longer and save him from having to use magic until much later.  
  
If Draco had been considered one of the best looking boys at school, he was now by all regards the best looking boy. As he walked by girls' heads would turn to follow after him with their eyes and boys would glare at him when they saw their girlfriends giving him come-hither looks. Draco noted all of the regards and took it as a sign that things were starting to become right again in the world.  
  
He did not notice the close scrutiny that a pair of emerald eyes had on him at many points during the day. Harry had taken to watching Draco a lot more then he would have been willing to admit. He just could not shake the feeling that something was up with the other boy. Harry had remarked that Draco had been skipping classes. One night he had found the Slytherin boy passed out in a tower classroom while wandering with the aid of his Marauder's map. Now here Draco was parading around looking good enough to kill. Harry had even seen Draco pull out a small pocket mirror during potions and stare at himself critically in it. These were not normal actions for Malfoy as far as Harry knew from the past four years they had spent bickering at each other. Although Draco had resumed attending classes and, as far as Harry knew from his checking of the map, had not spent any more nights out drinking, Harry decided to get to the bottom of the mystery called Draco Malfoy and that meant some good old fashioned stalking.  
  
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Draco sighed as he watched Potter slice their ginger roots. He wanted to reach over their workbench and show the Golden boy how to do it properly. Instead he turned back to his own ingredients and started to prepare them with such dexterity and perfection that Potter would be put to shame when Snape came to check up on them.  
  
The entire class had been paired up to work on their project. Each group was making a different confusion potion that would affect one of the senses. Draco and Harry were working on a slightly complicated potion that affected a person's hearing causing them to hear many voices at once and be unable to focus on any one to actually make sense of what was being said.  
  
Snape, as Draco had predicted, came by and praised Draco's preparation.  
  
'Mr. Potter, you would think that being paired with such a gifted student that you would learn a thing or two about how to properly prepare your ingredients. You are not cooking here, Potter. Every cut has to be exact.'  
  
Draco basked in Potter's discomfort. He felt elated to know that there were still some things that he could do better than 'Perfect Potter'.  
  
Harry looked over at Malfoy's part of the potion and begrudgingly admitted that when compared to Malfoy's cutting his own looked second rate, but he was still fairly good when compared to the rest of the class. Any one would look like an amateur in Potions next to Draco 'Potion Perfect' Malfoy. It was Harry's turn to sigh. He figured his ego could stand Snape's bruising since never had he gotten less than perfect on any potion that he and Malfoy were paired up on. Harry realized that Draco had not commented on Snape's chiding. Glancing over at Draco, Harry saw that the other boy was paying him absolutely no attention and was intently reading the instructions, so much so that his lips moved ever so slightly as he read. For some reason this annoyed Harry.  
  
Harry nosily cleared his throat and achieved his desired result. Draco looked up from his notebook at Harry.  
  
'What do you want? Finally going to ask for help with those roots now that you have massacred them?'  
  
'I was wondering Malfoy, if you had taken any of these confusion potions since you have been acting so out of sorts lately? What's wrong with you? Daddy not going to buy you a new broom?'  
  
Draco felt his hands go cold. "Potter has noticed that I am different!" His thoughts pounded in time with his heartbeat. "If he has noticed then there is no way that my father will not. I am as good as dead if he wonders about my loyalty even for a second. I may be first born, but mother is only thirty-three and perfectly capable of having more children if father finds me too flawed. I have been such a bad son thinking the things I have. How can I betray my family? Why am I so awful? Who was I trying to fool? There is no escaping my own name."  
  
Draco tried to focus on his work, but the attention to the task would not come and so, without consciously deciding, he walked out of class leaving behind a bewildered Snape and an equally phased Harry. He reached the dungeon level boys' lavatory and locked himself into one of the stalls. He sank down to the floor against the door shaking. He pulled his knees up to his chest in an attempt to gather himself, but his thoughts were still flying. One thing that screamed at him louder than all the rest was that he had been horribly stupid. If Potter was merely suspicious, Draco had now confirmed everything. He had fled his favourite class. Fled from Harry Potter while the entire class watched. How could he have been so stupid?  
  
He felt like punching himself. Draco pulled out his Swiss army knife with the intent of maliciously cutting up the stall door. Some violence would make him feel better and focus his anger. As he fumbled with the blade trying to get it out he ended up cutting himself. Thus Draco found a new way of gaining control. With this shiny blade he could make his inside match his outside.  
  
Whenever he felt like he was loosing control all he had to do was cut, just enough to clear his mind. These pinpricks, and longer graceful slices really did help. They didn't hurt very much at all. In fact he could make them quite artistic. Soon little red patterns decorated his inner arms and legs. These designs transformed his fears, doubts and pain into something else, something he could handle.  
  
Draco craved even more control now. Since he could make things he felt inside outside things then he reasoned that he could control what went into him. He would eat very little and when he felt that something was wrong he could always just vomit it up and it would no longer affect him. His weight would no longer be a problem. He had complete control over himself now and he felt good for the first time in a long time.  
  
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Harry had been stalking Draco for two days since the incident in Potions. He found very little about the blond boy's daily routine that would explain the unusual behaviour. Harry did notice three things that struck him as slightly odd, but may have been just Slytherin things. First was that Draco seemed to have no friends. He didn't even really talk to anyone. He would always sit by himself and read or do homework. Occasionally one of his housemates would approach him, but they always left after a brief chat if they weren't ignored out right. Second of all was that Draco disappeared for hours of the night into one of Hogwart's music rooms. Harry longed to know what Malfoy was up to in there but hadn't worked up the nerve to sneak in yet. Lastly was that Draco was looking really sickly. He was still good looking by all accounts but his gaunt cheeks, his dingy hair, and his listless eyes marred this beauty. Harry was starting to worry about the boy.  
  
He now had even more questions and still not one answer. He had brought it up with Hermione and she had listened carefully to his every word as she always did.  
  
'Harry, I wouldn't worry too much about him. Malfoy does as he pleases and I for one am glad that he has been avoiding us all month. Let him take care of himself. Since when has he ever asked for help? I never knew how peaceful this school could be without that silly git threatening us all the time, even if exams are less than three months away.'  
  
Harry was unwilling to let things lie just yet. The Potter Patrol, as he had come to think of his spying, continued.  
  
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Okay so I wrote this instead of my term paper. I expect some C&Cs though. That's over 2000 words in one day.  
  
Me thinks this is getting a bit angst-y. Poor Draco.  
  
Well does it work? Is it still keeping him and Harry in character? 


	5. Chapter 5

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Despite all of his best efforts, Harry's true break through on the Draco Malfoy case came when he least expected it.  
  
Harry had sat through most of Transfiguration trying to desperately think of anything but his horrible need to pee. He wiggled in his seat until Hermione got upset and moved her desk apart a bit. Crossing his legs one way and then the other, he some how managed to make it through the longest Transfiguration class ever. He almost cracked at one point and thought of asking Professor McGonagall if he could be excused, but unless one wanted a lecture on the need to preplan and deal with certain issues before class it was better to wait it out. He wondered too, if he could pull off a Malfoy and just get up and leave the room.  
  
Having packed up his things long before the end of class, Harry practically flew out of the classroom when the bell began to ring. Down the corridor he sprinted and flung himself into the first stall in the main floor boys lavatory. He bunched up his robes, unzipped hi fly, and sighed as he was finally able to relieve himself. Upon finishing, Harry flushed the toilet, lowered the seat and sat down. He glanced at his watch and found that he had just over an hour before his Care of Magical Creatures class with Hagrid. Relaxing, Harry let his thoughts wander. He had always found washroom stalls weird and private places to think, well except for Myrtle's water chamber. Harry was very glad that no sobbing ghost haunted this washroom.  
  
His thoughts turned to Quidditch. Gryffindor had played and beat Slytherin in their opening game. Hufflepuff in a surprising turn of fate had won. Two weeks from now was the game against Ravenclaw and that game would determine who would play in the House Cup. Slytherin had two wins. Ravenclaw had only one win, but if they won the match then they would still be in a position to challenge for the cup. If Gryffindor won then the cup game would be against Slytherin. Harry knew that his teammates and many of his housemates would be looking to him for the win. He had after all helped get Gryffindor the Quidditch cup all four years he had been at Hogwarts. It was a lot to live up to especially this year with the houses so equally matched. The games had been long and often brutal affairs. Harry felt like every beater was trying to kill him the way they kept swinging bludgers at him. It often came down to the Seeker to win the game or at least end it. Harry could feel the pressure and he desperately did not want to let down his house. Hufflepuff had a strong overall team, which is what surprised Gryffindor. Their team was almost entirely green. Most of the old Hufflepuff team had graduated last year. Harry would have to watch out for them next year once they got even more used to working together. Slytherin was strong as well. They had a lot of strength and it was in their best interest to draw out the game and keep Harry from catching the Snitch at all costs. Draco Malfoy was probably their weakest link and they had probably told him to just keep Harry busy so their Chasers could score enough points to win. Ravenclaw's Seeker, Cho, was coming into her own and giving her opponents a run for their money. She was very fast on her broom; the only thing that she needed to work on was dodging bludgers and spotting the Snitch. Harry respected her, but he no longer felt like asking her out. He thought he had last year, but even then he didn't know what he felt for her. He summed it up to a mixture of respect and camaraderie. The only thing that they had in common was that they were both Seekers, well that and Cedric's death, but Harry wasn't dealing with that right now. He knew it wasn't all his fault, but sometimes he would imagine situations where he could have done anything different just to see the outcome change. He had almost screamed when he had heard two witches talking in Diagon Alley last summer saying how they were glad that Cedric had died instead of Harry. Cho had briefly cornered Harry earlier in the year and told him that she understood and held nothing against him, but what would she say if she knew that other people considered Cedric more expendable then himself.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone retching in the next stall over. Harry called out to the other boy. 'Hey are you okay in there?' There was no answer, but the other boy stopped throwing up. Harry called again. Finally he left his stall and knocked lightly on the other stall's door. 'Do you need help? Are you sick? Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?' When there was still no answer, Harry started to get worried and began to bang on the door. 'Come out so I can see that you are okay or I'll knock down this door and drag you to the hospital wing.' Harry threatened.  
  
There was a flushing sound from the stall and Draco emerged, wiping the corner of his mouth with a square of toilet paper. He brushed by the confused Harry and splashed some water on his face in the sink. Harry gathered himself and fetched some paper towel from the dispenser for the blond boy. Handing it to Draco Harry asked if Draco is sick.  
  
'No I am not Potter.'  
  
'Then why were you throwing up in the loo? Are you sure you shouldn't see Madame Pomfrey? I could walk with you there.'  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow questioning the fact that Hogwart's Boy Wonder was offering to help him.  
  
'I have everything under control here, Potter. I do have a question for you though. Why are you spying on boys in the loo?' Draco smirked.  
  
'I was not spying!' Harry stammered. 'I was thinking.' He admitted sheepishly. 'Besides what do you mean you have everything under control? Malfoy, you are throwing up in the toilet. You don't seem like yourself; you don't even look healthy.'  
  
'What is it to you what I look like, Potter? I didn't know that my appearance mattered to you so much or I would have taken better care of myself.'  
  
'It doesn't and that's not what I meant.' Harry threw up hands in defeat. 'You make it impossible to talk to you. Do you know that?'  
  
'Yes. I don't like too many questions.'  
  
'Never mind questions, you don't like too much talking. You don't even have friends. Your two goons don't even bother with you anymore.'  
  
'Yes. I don't like too many people either.' Draco said maintaining his impassive mask. Harry stared at the cold, expressionless face and tried to judge what he should say next.  
  
'I think something is wrong with you. I've known you for four years and something isn't right. I tired talking to Hermione about it and she told me to leave you alone, but…'  
  
'She was right.' Draco interrupted. 'You should have let it be.'  
  
'I know that, but I couldn't. I always seem to get myself involved.'  
  
'Bad habit. It may get you killed.'  
  
'What is that supposed to mean?' Harry questioned in a huff.  
  
'Nothing, Potter. I didn't mean anything by it.'  
  
'Don't take this the wrong way, Malfoy, but I have to ask. Are you one of Voldemort's agents?'  
  
'No.' Draco replied flatly. 'Why on earth would you ever think something like that?'  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and managed to give Draco his best pained expression.'Gee I wonder? Maybe it was certain impressions that you gave others. Can I see your arm?' Harry held out his hand palm up looking into Draco's eyes trying to plead with him.  
  
'Maybe you shouldn't be so judgmental.'  
  
'That's a lark coming from you! You've hated me from day one.'  
  
'Is that what you have thought? I never hated you. That would be far too much of an emotional involvement with you than I'd ever be willing to have.'  
  
Harry was on the verge of slapping Draco. 'Liar.' He stated in a quiet voice.  
  
Draco stared at the black haired boy before him and tired to see how this would play out. He had two options: to leave and have Harry constantly follow him and ask annoying questions, or to cave this once and shut him up by giving him what he wanted. Draco wavered between the two choices and decided upon the latter.  
  
'Fine. Call me all the names you like, Potter. Here.' He said while extending his arms towards Harry. 'But after you've finished your little inspection of my person you will stop following me and you will leave me be. Are we agreed?'  
  
Harry nodded his consent and rolled up Draco's sleeves. What he saw was an angry patch of scars snaking their way up Draco's pale arms.  
  
'What are these?' Harry asked in a shocked voice.  
  
'Well they most certainly are not the Dark Mark that you were looking for.' Draco snorted.  
  
'Who did this to you?'  
  
'No one did that to me.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Harry asked confused.  
  
Draco gracefully shrugged and freed himself from Harry's grasp. 'This is something you don't have to worry about, Potter. It's none of your business and I have it under control.'  
  
Crinkling his eyebrows, Harry tired again. 'If someone is hurting you, you should talk to one of the teachers. They would help you. They would make it stop.'  
  
'And what if I don't want it to stop?' Draco paused, the air heavy as Harry's mind tried to work out why someone would want to be abused like that. Draco decided to fill him in. 'I do these things to myself, Potter. It's okay. Really it is.'  
  
'What? Why?' Harry sputtered. 'You have to get those cuts looked at. I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey!'  
  
'We had an agreement, didn't we? I let you see my arms so you could verify that I was Dark Mark free and you in return were supposed to leave me alone. Were you not?'  
  
Harry looked down at his hands. What was he doing trying to help Malfoy? Did he have to help everyone just because he was good? Is that why he cared that this major pain in the ass was falling apart? He looked back at Draco and realized that he just didn't want to see the boy hurting himself. With that though, Harry had a new cause to champion this year. He was going to cure Draco.  
  
'I don't care about our agreement.' He stated plainly. 'At the time I didn't know how badly off you were. Now that I know I have to help. I'm weird that way and I don't plan on changing. I AM taking you to the hospital wing.' From his robe he drew out his wand, but did not aim it. He just let the threat hang in the air.  
  
Draco crossed his arms over his chest, gave Harry a meaningful gaze, and walked out of the bathroom. Harry, taken back by the action, was left to catch up, completely forgetting his wand. He was surprised to note that Draco was actually heading towards the Hospital wing. Harry felt relieved. He was sure that Madame Pomfrey would fix him up and then he'd be himself again. Harry was actually happy at the thought of having his archrival back to trade insults with in the halls. Draco kept Harry from feeling famous all the time and there were occasions when he liked the competition.  
  
They entered the Hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey scampered towards Harry with a worried look on her face. 'What's wrong now dearie?'  
  
'Not me. Draco.' Harry gestured towards the other boy.  
  
'Oh. Well what seems to be the problem then young Malfoy?' She questioned him sternly, arms on her hips. Draco just glared back.  
  
Finally Harry spoke up. 'It's his arms, Madame Pomfrey.'  
  
Madame Pomfrey bent down and lifted Draco's sleeve and gasped.  
  
'Well sit down on that bed over there and I'll be right back.' She left the two boys and went into her office. The two of them sat down side by side on the bed. Harry was staring at his hands again wondering what to say. Draco didn't even bother making conversation. He sat motionless, looking straight ahead hardly even acknowledging Pomfrey when she returned with a healing potion to rub on his arms. When she began to cork the bottle and turned to walk back to her office, Draco stopped her.  
  
'I need some for my thighs and ankles too,' was all he said.  
  
The nurse paused and asked him to remove his pants. Draco did so, stripping them off and leaving him in his boxers. Harry blushed as Draco started to undress, wishing he could be invisible. He didn't think that Draco would like to know that he was being watched, but Harry couldn't help it, not when more nasty red scars were revealed on Draco's tender thighs and ankles.  
  
Draco let Madame Pomfrey finish coating him in the healing potion and then dressed himself. He then returned to his seat on the bed.  
  
Madame Pomfrey scrutinized the two boys before her. She had given up on trying to rationalize how the two of them had gotten here, but she knew the symptoms of depression when she saw them. Self-mutilation was not very original. She had expected something less clichéd from a Malfoy. Maybe she shouldn't have thought that, as it wasn't very funny. Poppy was at a lost of what to do. She was not trained as a therapist. There were no potions that she could dispense that would make the boy happy and well adjusted. She didn't even have the faintest clue as to why he would be depressed in the first place. She had to try though, didn't she?  
  
'Is there anything you need to talk about, Draco?'  
  
'No. Not really. I am grateful that you cured me. Good day to you.' Draco stood up and strolled out of the hospital wing.  
  
Harry followed after him, slightly dismayed in Pomfrey's dismal efforts to help.  
  
'I would appreciate it, Potter, if you didn't tell anyone about this.' Draco said matter-of-factly.  
  
'I won't but you have to let me know that you are going to be okay.'  
  
'And how am I to do that? I can't promise you that tomorrow I won't end up cutting myself again. So what do you want?'  
  
'I don't know…' Harry replied. 'You could talk to me, you know that right. I'd listen. Do you think that if I checked up on you every so often that you could keep yourself from …you know…?' Harry trailed off.  
  
'Maybe, but I refuse to make any promises.' Suddenly Draco had an idea. 'Potter. May I ask a favour then?' He waited until Harry nodded before continuing. 'I'd like for you to tell me about the Muggle world.'  
  
'Sure.' Harry blurted out, happy that it was an easy favour to grant.  
  
Draco nodded and headed off towards the stairs that lead to the Slytherin house. Harry followed after him with his eyes before making his way to his own house.  
  
Harry bounced onto his bed. "He's going to be okay. He'll be okay. I'll make sure he's okay. And he doesn't hate me. Even wants me to tell him about Muggles."  
  
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Hi hi.  
  
Had someone write in and tell me that the Draco self-mutilation thing was an over used plot. Well it may be, but it is not my plot. The cuttings are a result of his depression and an attempt at control. It is a part of the character and not the whole plot. I haven't even made it more than a month in story time. The plot is still building. I plan on ending this story when Harry graduates from Hogwarts. There is always more to someone then just the marks they make.  
  
It is also original for me. I have never had a character in any of my stories cut themselves before. Until this year that issue just hit too close to home for me to write about.  
  
~ naki  
  
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	6. Chapter 6

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Only once he was in the safety of his own bed with his sealing and silencing charms up, did Draco begin to quiver. He did not know entirely why he had told Potter the things he had. Was he tired and had just given in to the other boy's persistency? Draco had to face the consequences of his actions; Harry Potter now had a secret he could use against him. The thought should have unsettled him more than it did, but he could not really foresee Potter blackmailing him with this. It was just too Slytherin of an idea.  
  
Two good things had come out of that incident though; Draco would be able to fulfill his part of the agreement with Dumbledore by befriending Harry, and he would get the information he needed about Muggles. Harry would probably be willing to lend Draco the use of that Granger girl. "Yes," Draco thought. "For that plan to ever even have the chance of working I need to be well prepared. I hope it does not come to that, but it is nice to have a last resort."  
  
Harry had a way of extracting a reaction out of the normally tepid blond. There were few students in Hogwarts that Draco would waste time on by getting a 'good one' on them. Harry was not an easy target per say, but he was a fun one and that was all that mattered. When Draco was being truthful with himself, he had to admit that his relationship with Harry Potter was probably his most secure and reciprocal one. Harry had been quite perceptive when he stated that Draco had no friends. It was true that he had in fact never formed a true friendship, but that was normal among the more successful Slytherins. Those who rose in power formed alliances, not friendships. A true friendship involves self-sacrifice and that is, undoubtedly, a Gryffindor quality. His agreement with Goyle and Crabble had been that they would be his muscle and blame-takers, and he in turn would help them pass their classes. Since Draco had recently ceased attending classes they had not provided their part of the pact. Little did they know that he was still keeping up with his workload and was even reading ahead. He could have told them, but he really did not see the point of spending any more time helping them study and, more often than not, cheat. Maybe he would start showing up and even staying in class tomorrow.  
  
Sighing, Draco gently slid up his left sleeve to reveal one of his limbs that had been covered in controversial scars. He could feel the weight of his pocketknife in his robe. The idea of cutting out some of the confusion and emptiness of his life flickered briefly in his mind. Surprisingly, Draco found that he vanquished that thought rather quickly. He suddenly did not feel up to it. Harry was right; he was not looking overly attractive with scar tissue. Perhaps more than two good things had come out of their conversation.  
  
Draco was reminded of a sign that Pomfrey had up in the hospital wing his first year. It read 'Sometimes talking about it is a cure in and of itself.' The slogan seemed tacky at the time and it still did. Draco hoped that his own psychobabble could come up with a better sounding reason then that drivel.  
  
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Harry was actually anticipating Potions that morning for the first time in, well forever. He had a secret. It felt good to be trusted. Harry had replayed the whole scene from yesterday out in his head and had come up with the conclusion that Malfoy had wanted to tell Harry about his problem. Malfoy could have just pushed him aside and left the washroom, but he did not. Having always loved a mystery, Harry was looking forward to solving the enigma that was Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry entered the class with his two friends and found that Draco was already sitting at the front of the room stirring their potion. Hermione wished him good luck on the final steps of his potion. Ron shot a glare over at Malfoy and then rolled his eyes back to Harry. 'You are going to need more than luck working with that Slytherin trash. Maybe he'll get the hint and flee at the beginning of the class today instead of pestering you till the end,' Ron said in a loud stage whisper.  
  
Draco did not even turn around at this comment. He knew full well that every pair of eyes was watching him to see him give a wonderful Malfoy comeback, but Draco resisted the urge. Biting his lip, he waited to see what Harry Potter would say. For some reason he needed to know if the 'Golden Boy' would treat him differently since their encounter in the bathroom.  
  
After Ron's comment, Harry had glanced over at Draco wondering how he would react. When it became apparent that Draco would not rise to the challenge, Harry felt compelled to speak up. 'Ron,' Harry replied. 'You needn't worry about me so much. I've been in the presence of worse company before. And Malfoy really isn't that bad.' With that said, Harry gave Ron one of his encouraging smiles and made his way to his seat beside Draco.  
  
Ron stood staring after his best friend. He really did not understand what that was all about. Harry was defending Malfoy. He only removed his eyes from the black-haired boy when Hermione began to pull at his robes.  
  
'Really Ron,' she groaned dragging Ron to his seat. 'Don't tell me you didn't get what Harry said. He's obviously worried about You Know Who. Why else would he say that he'd rather sit beside Malfoy than the Dark Lord. I wonder if his scar has been hurting? It has been too quite and peaceful in the wizarding community. You would think that what with You Know Who having a body that there would be a lot more frightened people setting up better charms.'  
  
Harry sat down beside Draco and looked over at him. The other boy had slight bags under his eyes and he still looked pale, but it could just be his natural pallor. Harry decided that Draco did not look that bad and hoped that things were going better. He had to admit that he had never tried to play shrink with anyone before and had little idea of how to talk some one out of being self-destructive, but somebody had to try. His eyes made their way down to Draco's arms. He wondered if Draco had managed to keep from cutting himself last night. Then he noticed Draco's hands. He knew that the other boy had amazing eyes, but had never noted that he had perfect hands as well.  
  
'You sitting there watching me stir is not going to get this potion made any faster, Potter.' Draco had noticed Harry staring at his arms and knew that they had to talk otherwise Harry would try to make him talk, even here in the middle of the class. Gryffindors never seemed to know what timing was. Anything that had to be said should be said right away was their motto. He would have to teach Harry a few things about tact. 'You can take over the stirring from me and I'll cut up the rest of the ingredients. We're on part B number two. There are one hundred and fifty two stirs left, starting now.'  
  
Harry continued stirring while counting down in his head. Looking around the room he noted that they were far ahead in their potion compared to the groups. He turned his head to watch Draco slice a vampire toe. He now knew why Draco was so talented at cutting up his ingredients. It was because he had perfect hands. They were very steady and precise. He watched as delicately long fingers secured the toe and the other hand's wrist swiftly flicked to bring down the blade in a flash.  
  
While Harry was inspecting these hands, he heard Draco clear his throat. Harry covered up his interest in Draco's hands by asking how they were so far ahead.  
  
'I started early. I had a spare before, so I came a little early to class to set everything up and start the cauldron boiling. I want to get out of here early. I'm sure Snape will let us if our potion is good. Which it will be.'  
  
'Me too? Both of us?' Harry asked, confused.  
  
'Unless you want to stay here longer than you have to,' Draco said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
'Of course not…I. Why are you being so nice?'  
  
'We need to talk. You made me a promise yesterday and I intend to hold you to it.'  
  
Harry nodded. Looking back at the cauldron he realized that he had completely lost count of his stirs. Trying his best to not look panicked and at the same time not ruin Draco's potion, he tried to calculate his average stirring rate and deduce how many seconds ago he had stopped counting.  
  
'Twenty-eight stirs left and then we add the sliced toe and powdered opium seeds,' Draco answered Harry's unasked question non-pulsed.  
  
Harry smiled sheepishly at the other boy, thankful for the help, but at the same time upset that he was caught at being stupid.  
  
They added the rest of the ingredients and in no time they had a beautiful, light pink liquid simmering in their cauldron. Draco raised his hand to gain Snape's attention.  
  
Snape who had been berating Neville yet again for another potion's catastrophe, saw Draco's hand rise in the corner of his eye. He made his way over to the two boys, who had been surprisingly tension free all class.  
  
'Yes, Mr. Malfoy?' Snape queried.  
  
'I was hoping that you would inspect our potion now, Professor.'  
  
'Ah, certainly,' Snape answered, bending over slightly to take a better look. 'It looks as it should and, yes, it smells just right. Well done, Mr. Malfoy. Another perfect potion. After you are done cleaning up your work area you may leave.'  
  
'Thank you Professor. Potter and I are pleased with how it came out as well.'  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow at that last statement and Draco just stared bold- faced back at him. Deciding to let it pass, Snape moved on to see how the rest of his less talented class had faired. Exceptions had to be made for exceptional individuals. Dumbledore allowed Harry Potter his eccentricities, then why shouldn't Snape allow Draco Malfoy his. That was one of the reasons that Snape had never reported Draco for wandering around after curfew as well as for a few other rules that the boy had bent or outright broken. Snape wondered what Draco had planned for Potter when they walked out of this class early into a deserted hallway.  
  
  
  
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So what do you readers of fanfiction think? I would love to hear from more of you, so please leave me a message. Still looking for an editor. *hint hint*  
  
I have exams coming up soon, but I'll try to get at least one more part out before I move back home. University is almost over for the summer! I got my old job at a comic store back. Still need to find a better paying job, but that one is fun.  
  
Isn't Harry cute?!? I have most of the plot figured out…now just need to type out the right words and timing and flow to make it all work. This will be long. I hope I can stay with this and finish it. I usually get bored about 1200 words in and drop the story because I've thought up another one. *sigh* Attention deficit or what..? 


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